Golden Boy Broken Home đ
843 Words
CHAPTER TWO â Golden Boy, Broken Home
Zaydenâs POV
Location: Atlanta, Georgia
The gym echoed with sneakers screeching against polished floors, the thump of the basketball hitting hardwood, and the roar of teenage energy bouncing off the high walls. But for Zayden Cole, it all sounded distantâlike background noise in a movie he didnât ask to be in.
âCole! Nice dunk, man!â someone shouted.
He offered a quick grin, sweat dripping down his temple, but his heart wasnât in it. The crowd loved him. The school worshipped him. Every step he took in the halls of North Ridge High was followed by eyes, whispers, hearts beating fast. Girls smiled a little wider when he walked past. Teachers cut him slack. Boys wanted to be him.
But none of it mattered.
Because no one really knew Zayden.
They didnât know what happened two years ago. They didnât know about the blood. The scream. The gun. The birthday that turned into a funeral.
They didnât know about Ezra.
His older brother. His parents' pride. The one who was supposed to go to Stanford and âchange the family legacy.â Until someone pulled a trigger and ended it all. And Zaydenâsixteen years old and frozen in shockâstood over the body, screaming for help that came too late.
No suspects. No arrests. Just whispers.
And parents who stopped calling him âsonâ the day Ezra died.
---
He showered quickly after practice and pulled on a black hoodie and joggers, his face sharp in the locker room mirror. Light brown skin. Hazel eyes that looked too tired for his age. A face girls wanted on magazine covers, but all he saw was guilt.
As he stepped outside, the cold Atlanta breeze hit him. Early fall. Leaves were beginning to drift from the trees, orange and red like fire. He slipped on his headphones and walked the long way homeâhe didnât feel like going back to the house just yet.
Not to that place.
Not to them.
---
The Cole mansion stood like a museumâhuge, silent, filled with glass and ghosts. A three-story estate with marble floors, chandeliers, and rooms no one used anymore. It looked rich, sure. On the outside. But inside, it was a graveyard of love.
He walked in through the side entrance. No one said hi. No one ever did.
His mother was in the living room, sipping red wine from a crystal glass, her heels crossed as she watched some political news channel. Her eyes flicked to him, then awayâlike he was just a shadow that passed.
His father? Probably locked in the study, pretending he never had two sons.
Zayden headed upstairs. His room was the only place that still felt like his. He locked the door behind him and collapsed onto his bed, tossing his phone onto the pillow beside him.
He hated this house.
He hated this silence.
He hated not knowing who killed Ezra.
Was it random? Jealousy? A setup?
Or worse⊠was someone he knew hiding something?
---
His phone buzzed. A message lit up the screen.
> Luna:
âSo⊠I dreamed about you again. You were annoying as hell đâ
He laughed under his breath.
Luna.
She was the only good thing in his life that didnât come with conditions.
They had never met in person. She said she wasnât ready to show her face yet. Fine by him. It wasnât her looks that hooked himâit was her mind. Her heart. The way she listened without judgment.
She didnât know he was Zayden Cole. To her, he was just Zane32âa guy with secrets, dry humor, and a need for something real.
He didnât have to perform for her.
He could just... be.
> Zane32:
âI was annoying in your dream? Wow. Mustâve been realistic. đâ
> Luna:
âPlease. You were flexing and tripping over your ego đ
â
> Zane32:
âIâm hurt. You wound me, Moonlight.â
His smile lingered longer than usual. She always called him "annoying," but he felt it in his chestâhow badly he needed her messages. How badly he needed someone to choose him.
Not because he was the golden boy.
Not because he was Ezraâs little brother.
Just because he was Zayden.
His phone buzzed again, but this time it was a news alert.
Unsolved Crime Spotlight: Atlanta Teenâs Birthday Turns Tragic â Ezra Coleâs Murder Case Still Open After Two Years.
Zayden stared at it, jaw clenched.
He threw the phone down, chest rising and falling fast.
He had to find out the truth.
He had to clear his name.
Even if it killed him.
---
And somewhere across town, in a small cold bedroom with peeling walls and a cracked windowâŠ
Fiona smiled at her screen, not knowing the boy she was falling for was the very one her cousin was obsessed with.
Not knowing her next message could change everything.
---
- Writer
